The Undertaker and Friend
by Libby.not.a.slave.to.fashion
Summary: Do you know the reason why Undertaker is always smiling? Do you know the story of Ambrose? I didn't think so. Unraveling the enigma of the Undertaker. Holly crap, this description is so cool!


Hallo! Today I write about Undertaker. Don't be fooled, he's my favorite character (Along with all the others). He has such a fun character! So I made up an OC for his friend. He's pretty cool, I'd probably be bestest friends with him. You have no idea how much fun it is for me to kill off my OCs. It's so much fun!

Undertaker smiled buying flowers, bright yellow flowers. He smiled as he walked down the road. He smiled as he entered the cemetery. He still smiled as he stood over the grave of his dear friend, Ambrose. He chuckled, thinking how ironic his name was. And then the tears started, flowing faster and faster, but that smile still on his face.

Ambrose stood tall, smiling stupidly at his friend and partner, known as the Undertaker. They had just graduated the Death God Academy for Death Godiness, as Ambrose called it. Ambrose was a character, as many people put it. He was flamboyant and happy. You could never catch him without a smile plastered on his face. Many people thought he was doing some amazing drug no one else knew about, but he liked to say that he was "high on life." He loved to be center of attention at all times, and he seemed to radiate light, even in the darkest of times.

So everyone was shocked when Ambrose began to hang out with a dark, depressing boy that no one knew the name of.

"Hey!" Ambrose said, leaning over the back of his chair, smiling at the dark rain-cloud behind him. "What's you name?" he asked cheerfully.

The boy looked at him from under the bangs covering his face. "It doesn't matter to you," he finally said, looking the other way. There was no way he was going to associate with the likes of this happy-go-lucky idiot.

"Well then, I'll just give you a name! I've very good at it, you know? Hmm..." he said, looking the dark boy up and down. "Ah!" he exclaimed, startling the boy. "I've got it! I'll call you, UNDERTAKER!" he yelled happily, getting everyone's attention. "Attention everyone! This no-name boy right here," Ambrose pointed to the newly named Undertaker, as he stood on the desk. "Is now to be called Undertaker!" Everyone just smiled and shook their heads, going back to what they were doing. Ambrose laughed happily, plopping back down into his seat. "So, do you like your new name? I got the idea because your wearing a bunch of skull things, and are really dark like a funeral home!"

"Whatever," Undertaker muttered, hoping this crazy person would leave him alone.

"So, what's your favorite color?" he asked, wasting no time, "Oh wait, it's black, isn't it? Well, black is actually one of the most colorful colors, since it's all the colors combined! But I prefer yellow. It's so bright, and sun-shinny, and nice! I especially like neon colors too! My favorite neon color is pink! It's just, like, the ultimate neon! I bet it rules over all the other neon colors as their God, and they all want to be just like it!" Ambrose said, a stupid smile on his face.

Undertaker just stared at Ambrose, not knowing what to do. Why wouldn't this insane person leave him alone?! He had no idea this man would change his whole idea of life.

From that day onwards, Ambrose talked to Undertaker whenever he saw him, saying anything he could think of. Undertaker was certain that this man would never run out of things to say. He was also fairly certain that he talked to himself. Not that Undertaker didn't like the attention, in fact, he loved it. But he would never let Ambrose know. Soon Ambrose's friends started talking to Undertaker as well. He was amazed at how just having this guy constantly talking to him could encourage so many others to talk to him.

Soon Undertaker lightened up, and eventually he could crack a smile every now and again, if Ambrose did something really funny. Or stupid.

But neither of them really knew what awaited them when they graduated the academy and got out into the real world.

"Team Ambrose Undertaker, there's a band of rogue Death Gods on the loose in the human world. Your mission is to stop them. Kill them if you have to." It was their first day, and they were sent on mission that could kill them. Sure they weren't on good terms with this fat-assed section manager, but he wanted them to die?!

"We're going to die," Undertaker said, on their way to the last known location of the rogues. Ambrose laughed, and cracked his award-winning smile.

"Ah, come on, it's not that bad! At least we don't have desk duty! That's the worst shit they can land you with. It's so boring!" Ambrose laughed, pulling his make-shift scythe out of his long neon-yellow coat. He smiled happily, giving "her" a good-luck kiss. He did this every time he was nervous. Undertaker wasn't sure Ambrose realized this, but he did. They reached the place, and found three rogues, two women and a boy. Ambrose rushed in, like an idiot and started fighting one of the women. Undertaker sighed, and snuck up behind the other woman, slitting her throat. She didn't even have time to think before her life was over. Just like that. In a blink of an eye, without even realizing it. The boy turned to see her life flash by. His eyes filled with fear even before the tears escaped. Undertaker walked to the boy, raising his scythe for the strike.

"Stop, Undertaker. Don't kill him. He's innocent," Ambrose pleaded. Undertaker only had time to look at his friend for a split second before the woman Ambrose had been fighting beheaded him.

"Ambrose!" Undertaker screamed, seeing his best friend's life play before his eyes. He saw Ambrose the boy, sitting in a corner, tears streaming down his cheeks, mingling with blood and filth. He sat with a woman that looked like she could be his mother is lap. Her body was covered in blood and semen, and she was most certainly dead.

In the next scene, he was older. He was tied to a chair by someone who could have been his father, who was pressing a burning cigarette against the boy's arm as he screamed in pain. Then he was being hit by five guys ganging up on him before they pulled his pants off and paraded around the school with them on their heads as he laid on the ground crying.

Undertaker wanted to puke, thinking of the things that Ambrose had been through. Then he thought of himself. How could Ambrose just stand by Undertaker when he'd never been through anything as bad as Ambrose, but a thousand times more depressing than him. Undertaker began to hate himself, realizing that he had **no right** to be as sad as he was when his life wasn't bad at all. Without realizing it, the tears streamed down, but his mouth twisted into a smile as he turned to the woman.

"Do you realize what's about to happen to you~? Huh, bitch~? You're going to die~!" Undertaker said, running at her with his scythe.

He left the flowers on the grave, and walked back to his little shop, remembering his promise to himself. A promise to never frown again.

Hurray for depressing stories about death and stuff. Now I have to go draw a picture... Why must it be a landscape?! I don't have any fucking landscape near my house!! It's all cityscape!


End file.
